


Say it with Love

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots Academy (Cartoon)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drama, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Oneshot, Romance, continuing story arc, unwanted suitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29457120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: Things were right once more. Wedge was back at the Academy, his team was working together in sync better than before, Hot Shot didn't hate him... There was just one problem: Scorch. Even with Wedge returned, he refused to leave Hot Shot alone. He couldn't protect his friend forever from the sidelines but would Wedge really be able to say the one thing that might change it all?
Relationships: Wedge/Hot Shot
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Say it with Love

"Hey, Cody," Hot Shot called, throwing his comic aside as the multi-changer spotted the human crossing out in the hall, "What movie are we doing this Friday?"

The teenager paused, back-tracking a step to enter the lounge, the other recruits vocalizing their greetings and inquiries. "Hey, Hot Shot," Cody chuckled. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to host movie night this weekend. I've got other plans at school."

"Ah, you are furthering your studies in your off-hours?," Medix said, setting down his own book. Much neater than Hot Shot had. "What a productive use of your limited life span!"

Even Whirl gave the white youngling an odd side-long glance at the statement. Trying his best to be polite, Cody started, "Um, no. My class hours are still the same. It's just the gymnasium that will be open later in the evening."

"Ooh, is it for one of those team games?," Hoist guessed, catching Hot Shot's attention. "Can we come?"

"Can we play?!," the red recruit interjected boisterously.

"Guys, guys... WAIT!," the poor teenager shouted, trying to be heard over the rising din of excitable Cybertronians. It took nearly a klik for them to notice and quiet down, giving Cody a chance to speak without straining his vocal chords further. Sighing, he rested a servo on his hip in a perfect imitation of his sister, smiling wryly at the recruits. "Listen, I love that you are all into a good sports game, and we should definitely have a few rounds of Burns Ball this summer, but my school is not hosting a tournament match this Friday. It's a dance, for the students."

"DANCE!," Whirl squealed, shoving past Hoist and practically flying toward their human friend. "Can we come? Oh, please, please, _please_ Cody? I love to dance!"

"Eh, sorry, Whirl," Cody replied. "The teachers have been planning the Valentine's dance since last year, and I'm pretty sure their party accommodations don't account for eight Rescue 'bots."

Wedge glanced quickly from his game, returning to shooting down bombs as his character avatar inched closer to the princess on-screen. "Well, we don't have to drag the first years along with us. Pretty sure they haven't even earned their off-campus privileges yet anyhow," he said. Turned away from the others, he allowed himself a little smirk. It was always a highlight of his orn when he recalled that he had more freedom than Scorch did.

"Yeah, that... That still won't work out," the human continued, looking a little miserable now.

Hot Shot stepped up as Whirl whined in disappointment. "C'mon, Cody," he insisted, a confident smile on his face. "Just tell them we're your guests and we'll handle the rest. I mean, we're practically famous on Griffin Rock anyhow; why would they refuse us coming?"

"I'm already going with someone else, Hot Shot. And the dance is really not going to be suited for you guys."

This now had everyone's full attention, even Wedge, who took a fatal hit from the digital antagonist to face their friend. Under intense scrutiny, the teenager could only cough uncomfortably, suddenly wishing he could slink away somewhere. "Oh jeez, I-i shouldn't have said anything...," he mumbled.

"I do not understand how a gathering of bodies, to partake in choreographed action in unison with a preset rhythm, could possibly be an activity outside of our scope to participate. Especially for someone like Whirl," Medix said into the dead silence, both confused and somewhat offended at their friend's poor excuses.

"N-no, I'm not saying that you are not wanted, just that it's-" Cody flailed awkwardly for a moment, shrugging lamely as he blurted out, "I mean, it's a VALENTINE'S DAY dance. Full of humans."

At the blank looks he was getting, the teen became very pink in the face. "I can't really... H-holy shit, I don't know how to explain this," he whispered to himself, pressing his hands together flatly before his nose as he exhaled sharply. "This is more of my sis' department... You know what? T-that's what we'll do! I'll call Dani and she can, eh, enlighten you all on... this..." Snapping his fingers after his exclamation, Cody hurried to the door, digging his cellphone out of his pocket as he went.

"I-i gotta get back home for dinner a-and stuff, but I'll call Dani on the way and ask her if she can give you guys a culture lesson tomorrow. H-heatwave allowing, of course," Cody grinned uncertainly. "But yeah, we'll have movie night next Friday. Okay? Cool! Seeyouguyslater!" And then the human was gone, the soft thumping of his sneakers tapping rapidly down the corridor.

"...Wait, did Cody just legit ditch us without an explanation?," Hot Shot was the first to say, his face crumpled in equal parts baffled and hurt.

"Hot Shot, the evidence took place just before our optics," Medix replied in exasperation.

"But that is very unlike Cody," Whirl said, siding with the red recruit, while she peeked out in the hall. Yep. Cody had disappeared completely.

"M-maybe this Valentine's thing i-is something super dangerous," Hoist theorized in a hush, servos lifting to his face fretfully.

"With that kind of name?," Wedge snorted, rolling his optical sensors. "Probably it's some weird human custom. Anyways, we'll find out later. Or not. It's not really a big deal if its' something outside of our species' capabilities. You'll pop a bolt stressing over nothing, Hoist."

The teal youngling huffed at the jab, but the taller recruit was already turning back to the arcade terminal, loading up another game. "Hey, Hot Shot," Wedge called over a shoulder tire to the idle Autobot, "Try to beat me to the princess before the newbies get out of class for the orn."

"Gladly!," Hot Shot shouted, racing back across the lounge. Medix yelped as the multi-changer decided to take a leap over the couch pit as a short cut, a pede almost clipping his helm in the process, grabbing his medical textbook as he stood up quickly himself.

"I'm just going to study in my room if you're going to be unruly," the white youngling grumbled, walking off.

"I am the opposite of 'unruly'," the red recruit protested, pouting a bit at the medic's retreating backstruts. He looked to Whirl and Hoist for confirmation, but the pair had already gone back to their previous activities.

Wedge chuckled from behind him, that classic smirk on his face as his teammate turned to look back. "Yes, you are the very definition of obedience and calm, Mr. Loudmouth," he teased good-naturedly, leaning against the gaming machine. "Can you remind me who was it that interrupted Heatwave's last assembly again?"

"Oh, shut up," Hot Shot returned, a grin tugging at his own mouth as he nudged the orange youngling aside with a hip, servos resting on the game's controls. "Let's see if you still feel like making fun after I whoop your aft."

Wedge laughed again, stepping up to the arcade terminal, glancing warmly at the oblivious multi-changer as their frames rubbed together for a brief moment.

**xxXxXxx**

"...-dge? Wedge, are you okay?"

The orange youngling shuttered his optics as he was jostled out of his inner musings, falling back with a yelp at how close Blurr's face was to his own. The purple mech frowned slightly, venting loudly as he stood to full height, looking off to his right.

"Nope, training wheels here is just fine. Dozed off or something," he said to Bumblebee, who was walking into the room now.

The ex-scout gave the Rescue 'bot a wry look before smiling at the recruit. "I'd say he was just checking his chronometer again. Blurr, would you kindly continue moving the boxes back to Griffin Rock while I talk to Wedge?" Waiting until the race car had moved on to the next room, Bumblebee helped the triple-changer to his pedes, a knowing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So... in a rush to get back to something?"

Wedge felt his tires lift defensively, cheekplates warming with embarrassment. "Yeah...," he confessed. "I was hoping we'd be done sooner so that I'd be back at the Academy before S... u-uh, before Dani got there for her presentation."

Bumblebee nodded, missing the youngling's near slip. Or so Wedge hoped. "I see, I see. And just what is Dani going to be sharing with you all today? Flight techniques? Drop-maneuver first aid for coastal rescues?"

The triple-changer shook his helm. "No, I wish. That'd be cool... She's coming to explain, eh, 'Valen's Day' or something like that? I don't know... Cody said he'd bring her by 'cause the others were kinda bummed we couldn't go to his school's party on Friday," Wedge explained, shrugging. "Sounds kinda stupid."

"That's because it is," a vocalizer hissed irritably from above them.

Helms snapping upwards, both mechs looked to see Lazerbeak staring down at them from his makeshift perch, red optics narrowed into tiny slits. It was a glower that Wedge returned; the minicon wasn't the only one displeased that he was still here.

"...thank you for your input, Lazerbeak," Bumblebee said, releasing a little sigh of exasperation, before he turned his helm back towards the youngling, "But the word you're looking for is 'Valentine' and it's one of Earth's more popular holidays."

"It is?," Wedge asked dumbly, thrown by the revelation, "How come I've never heard of it before?"

The yellow mech pressed his lip components together momentarily, a servo flopping awkwardly in the air as he quickly formulated a response. "Well... To put it plainly, you were probably never told because it's a holiday specifically for lovers. Or hopeful lovers," he answered, to the recruit's mounting horror. "Usually, humans use this time of the year to express in triple-fold their special thoughts and feelings with the one they love -through food, presents, out-of-the-norm activities, etc. Others take the opportunity to use the romantic festivities to confess their affections to their crushes and begin their relationships. Granted that they are reciprocated, after all. Cody probably has a certain someone special that he wants to spend the night alone with; human youth usually enter their sexual peak about now and will spend the next decade actively exploring their biological preferences."

Wedge was sure his face was melting right off of his exoskeleton this very instant.

Bumblebee seemed to notice, and bless his spark, he attempted to stifle the laugh that bubbled up, yet his fist could not hide the wide grin splitting his face in two. "Aside from the fact that obviously you'd be in a room full of humans looking for romantic partners, I'm sure Cody thought it would be an uncomfortable night for you and the team," the ex-scout managed to say humorlessly, "I mean, given the fact that there's only your team and the first years. It's not quite an even split for slow-dance partners."

The orange youngling opened his mouth to make a comment about how the dancing was the lesser turn-off to the whole holiday, when he remembered something crucial: his team wasn't the _only_ ones getting the culture lesson on Valentine's Day. "That slagger will-," he hissed, his mouth slamming shut when he realized he was cursing out loud.

Bumblebee paused, optic ridges raised as he looked the recruit over. Wedge tried to smooth his locked jaw and clenched fists, but it was impossible at the moment. "...Is there something I should know, Wedge?," he asked seriously.

"N-no, Bumblebee, s-sir," the triple-changer forced out. He could just see it now: that nasty lil' fragger, sitting there, a slag-eating grin on his stupid face, while Cody's sister fed him ideas involving the Earthian holiday. There was no doubt in the orange youngling's processor that Scorch would use the romantic customs to twist Hot Shot under his thrall again, especially while Wedge was away from the Academy and unable to put a stop to his schemes. Just thinking about that made the recruit tighten his jaw in silent rage.

"Wedge, I know it's only been a couple months, and you're still getting back into the sync of things with your friends," the ex-scout started sympathetically, "But if you're going through some hard times with the others, you-"

The beeping of his commlink interrupted, Bumblebee mid-sentence. Torn, he hesitated to answer, venting heavily and trying to give the recruit an encouraging smile. "I gotta take this call; I'll be in the other room if you need me," he informed softly, waiting to see if the youngling would respond, before he walked out to deal with the incoming message.

"Yearning after Autobots? _Disgusting_ ," Lazerbeak retched from above.

"Excuse me?!," Wedge growled, his helm snapping up towards the avian.

Lazerbeak managed an expression that foretold all of his disgust, despite the beak, tossing his helm back carelessly. "And I thought you couldn't sink any lower, dirt-mover. Allow me to fathom a guess: it was the shiny red one that you tried to protect from me, correct?" The minicon snorted. "You couldn't even pick a competent piece of scum from the bucket of scum."

"Did I ask for your opinion?!," the orange youngling shot back, wishing he could slap that superior look from the other's face.

The Decepticon sneered, leaning his long neck toward the triple-changer; still tauntingly out of reach. "After all we've fought to achieve, for you now to-"

Wedge was quick to cut the minicon off. "I'm sorry, your achievements? Your fight? What the slag did you ever achieve?," he shouted, growing louder in volume as a swell of unspoken rage burst forth from a place buried deep within. "You let a madman _destroy_ our entire planet! You slaughtered millions -foes and allies alike! You never gave two frags for the unranked soldiers: you just threw us wherever you wanted, our safety be slagged! So long as you and your masters got what they wanted. And even that wasn't enough because, when you finally had Cybertron, you squandered it away in your self-serving, crazed need to eradicate all Autobots! Decepticons were running the council and you all did _nothing_ to better our growing society!"

"All the promises and plans of the Decepticon army were just _lies_ , fed to us by a tyrant craving genocide for anyone not like him. I'm happy that I got rid of his mark, because his ideals are trash. Toxic refuse!," Wedge yelled, jabbing a finger up at the startled avian violently. "Your masters had their chance to build our planet anew and they wasted it! Cybertron isn't yours anymore; it belongs to _me_ and all the other new sparks being lit every stellar cycle. I am part of its future. _Not you!_ And I won't be talked down about the choices I make, by a bunch of psychotic has-beens, who couldn't function past their all-consuming thirst for violence!"

Lazerbeak flapped his wings, a low hiss escaping, when Bumblebee made his timely return. "Lazerbeak, that's _enough_ ," he ordered firmly, his expression stony as he stared up at the Decepticon. The minicon glared but shut his beak with a sharp clack; spreading his wings and gliding to another part of the lab.

Wedge was shaking where he stood, the former intensity of his emotions leaving him hollow and weak as the energy faded away. He was ready to collapse, when he felt his mentor's servos laying on his shoulder tires, gently leading the recruit to a seat. "..I-i'm... sorry, s-sir," the orange youngling mumbled out, servos covering his face as he hunched over in exhaustion. He didn't want the ex-scout to see how close he was to tears. "T-this... 'Valentine' thing h-has me kinda... stressed..."

"I don't quite think it's the human holiday alone," Bumblebee said, resting beside the recruit. "You said a lot of things just now... Lazerbeak's commentary really reacted with you though."

The triple-changer stiffened, a knot of worry building in his fuel tanks.

"We never discussed why you were separated from the team for a few months, though I do know Heatwave's excessively rigid school rules and unspoken prejudices did play a role in everything. So...," the yellow mech continued, doorwings shifting quietly as he spoke, "How is Hot Shot doing? Is the friendship repaired, you think?"

Wedge felt his engine turn over sharply at the other recruit's name, cheekplates burning as he slowly slid his servos away from his face. "U-uh, yeah, we're cool. T-total pals, ya k-know," he vented out with a cough, keeping his optics glued to the floor.

Bumblebee nodded his helm languidly. "Cool, cool... I'm glad you and him managed to talk things out, and that you felt accepted enough to return," he said, glancing up at the ceiling as he whistled for a moment. "Shame that Hot Shot's got an old buddy who's just joined the Academy. You two seem to have it in for each other. Your interactions seem very... competitive."

The orange youngling could only move his helm in time with his mentor's words, afraid that anything more would give his secret away.

"...So when do you think you'll tell Hot Shot about your feelings?"

Wedge jolted hard enough to slip off the edge of the crate he was sitting on, falling to the floor with a loud clatter. When he looked up, it was to find Bumblebee resting with a servo propped under his chin, a knowing smirk tugging at one side of his face.

"W-wh-who-?!," the recruit stammered.

"Blades did," the yellow mech supplied casually.

"Traitor," the triple-changer muttered, dropping his helm between his raised knee joints. His words lacked any real bite to them.

Bumblebee sighed, rolling his shoulders loosely as he straightened up. "Listen, I know this is pretty weird for you and all... But, a word of advice? You should tell him. This rivalry between you and Scorch is never going to get any better, but it'll be worse if you never say a word to Hot Shot. That thought of 'what if' will haunt you forever..."

Wedge found his optics connecting with his mentor's, neck cables seizing around his vocalizer as he absorbed what the older mech had said. He couldn't admit it aloud, but everything in Bumblebee's statement was true. The anxiety he felt at the thought of confessing was nowhere near as terrifying as never knowing if Hot Shot could love him back.

A quick set of pedes marched into the room from the next room over; Stormshot pausing in the doorway as he took in the sight of the pair resting, as it were, venting loudly in mild annoyance. "There you are. Bumblebee, we are on a schedule and all I can see is yourself slacking off with the youngling," the flyer said, displeased, "If we do not clear Mrs. Baranova's labs in a timely fashion, than construction will be postponed. I rather not have to argue with the contractors to get the start date pushed back."

"Right, right," the ex-scout replied amicably, jumping to his pedes immediately. He turned towards the orange youngling, smiling. "Wedge, why don't you finish packing the remaining equipment in this room and think about what I said, alright? Stormshot and I will continue to move the crates to Griffin Rock in the meantime, so you'll have plenty of quiet."

"U-um, thank you, B-bumblebee, sir," Wedge said, getting up as well, his face still warm around the edges. Bumblebee winked at the triple-changer and true to his word, left with Stormshot to continue clearing out the lab, leaving the ex-Decepticon all alone. Moving towards a table littered with glassware, Wedge began to pack the beakers into a padded case; his thoughts on his friend and the letter he still kept stowed away in his subspace, written way back when.

**xxXxXxx**

Ten kliks into the presentation and Hot Shot discovered very quickly that it was a mistake.

Dani was a nice enough person -bubbly, clever and incredibly enthusiastic about earth culture- but as she began to go into detail about the holiday and all of its romantic connotations, the room of recruits had a very mixed bag of reactions. There was curiosity, confusion, a little disgust, some admiration for the human rituals... And then there was that piercing gaze stabbing into the back of Hot Shot's helm while the woman talked.

Hot Shot didn't need to look to know who was it that was attempting to drill psychic holes into his processor. He'd had the misfortune of glancing around the room once earlier in the lesson and, upon catching Scorch blatantly staring him down, had not let his gaze wander since. Just a peek at that smirking face had already left the red youngling with chills; if he speculated for even a moment what the athlete was thinking about inside his own helm, Hot Shot was sure he'd be sick. It wasn't like the yellow recruit had hid his intentions all that much since coming to Earth.

Worse yet, Dani's interesting class on human holidays and the various rituals they partook in showcasing affection towards each other was merely feeding Scorch with a well of ideas. Every time he felt those optics scan up his frame, the multi-changer was afflicted with another icy chill, unable to relax in the moments between each of his ex-friend's glances. Finally, he couldn't bear the nausea any longer, and the next time that Scorch and the professors were looking in the opposite direction, Hot Shot took the opportunity to drop behind the bleachers and sneak out of the action matrix. He'd gladly take a detention or extra chore duty over being meticulously studied by unwanted optics.

How lucky Wedge was to be off-base with Bumblebee. The orange youngling was at least spared this uncomfortable presentation or the concern of why his teammate had just disappeared suddenly.

Venting loudly, Hot Shot made his way down the Academy corridors, heading into Hero Hall. There was no other lesson plans scheduled for the orn and this close to the end of classes, it was unlikely that anybody would be coming for a sim-run. The recruit figured he could hang around here, wasting time, until curfew arrived. Thank Primus that the first-years recharged in a separate hall. Tapping at the console commands, Hot Shot brought forth a library; stepping past the shimmering barrier and throwing himself into the nearest armchair. Digital or not, this fake library had the cushiest seats. Way better than the student lounge.

The multi-changer was working his way through his third comic when he heard something shuffle through the silent room, pistons tightening in his legs out of fear. "H-hello...?," he called out, hesitantly, neck craning to see between the high shelves.

Another sound, closer this time, and Hot Shot snapped his helm to the right quickly, the first couple notes of a scream escaping before he managed to stifle it. An odd whistling sound hissed out of his vents instead. "Sweet Solus... You scared me, Chuck!," the recruit announced, a little snappishly. "Do you have to go sneaking about the school all the time? What are you even doing here?!"

The drone stood in place, stiff and silent, looking at the youngling with a blank face. Hot Shot shuttered his optics uncertainly as the quiet dragged on; neither one speaking and no discernible reaction coming forth from their training assistant.

"...What," the Autobot asked, a thought coming to him just then, "What do you even _do_ all orn, Chuck, when you don't have to be in class with us?"

The large, oval optics stared Hot Shot down relentlessly, no answer reflected in the matte purple glass.

Thoroughly unnerved, the multi-changer sank back into his armchair, lifting his comic to act as a partial screen. "...O-okay. Sorry I asked. Go do what you want," he mumbled out. Chuck turned and sauntered off in that uneven gait of his, throwing back a tinny, "Bye", as he disappeared between a stack of bookshelves. Grumbling to himself, Hot Shot tried to return to his comic but after a couple kliks of reading the same page repeatedly, he conceded that he no longer had the attention span for it.

"This orn has been the absolute worse," the recruit groaned, letting the comic fall upon his face as he sunk deeper into the armchair's cushions.

It was the first orn that Wedge had been off on a mission alone, while the rest of the team stayed stationed back at the Academy, Hot Shot noted. After a tumultuous confrontation that led to the triple-changer's return, it felt so surreal to have Wedge be gone again -even if temporarily. Not a single soul could proclaim that the team was complete without their fifth; since he'd come back, every orn was spent with the bunch of them participating in as many activities together as they could. Studying? Yep. Games? For sure. Exercise? You betcha! Classes and training sims? They filled the professors' quota and than some! And you knew that the recruits arranged their schedules so that they either helped each other with their chores, or otherwise hung about while the one student finished. They did everything they could to feel like a unit again, and judging by the teachers' smiles, their efforts seemed to be successful. Everything was just like before!

...well, except that little bit where Scorch decided to join the Rescue 'bots program, just to be in the red youngling's life again. The athlete had a sense of entitlement about him, leading him to believe that he was owed anything he wanted -be that either objects or 'bots. And the yellow recruit was certainly not the sort to back down once he set his sight on something. It was a trait that, Hot Shot regretfully admitted, he had found incredibly inspiring barely a stellar cycle ago... But now that he was aware of where that stemmed from, and just exactly what it meant regarding his own self, the multi-changer could only say he despised that tenacity. Scorch would not be easily dissuaded from the things he 'felt' that he deserved and he excelled at swaying others to his line of reasoning. Twice now, Hot Shot had nearly gotten swept away by his old friend's machinations. It was only thanks to Wedge's contrasting personality, that he was able to keep the mental fog from overtaking him entirely and going along with Scorch's wishes.

Whether the orange recruit knew it or not, he was in some ways Hot Shot's personal guard. When he was around, Hot Shot didn't worry about Scorch, nor fear that he wouldn't have the strength to battle against the athlete's well-practiced subterfuge. But now the triple-changer was out of the Academy, and Cody's sister was enlightening them all on how humans showcased their love for each other, and the red youngling could just feel his ex-friend putting together another type of scheme somewhere else in the school...

Hot Shot was more than understandably jittery at the horrible strings of events.

Pedes were moving through the library again, approaching Hot Shot's little corner of the projected room. "Chuck," he sighed, refusing to budge from his position, "I hope you tidied up after... whatever... you were doing. I seriously don't want to have to get in trouble for your mess."

The pedes came to an abrupt stop behind the armchair, the comic being yanked off of his face -leaving only a flash of cold to shoot through his entire being as the multi-changer stared up into a peculiarly smug face. "I promise I have no messes for you to clean up," Scorch replied, his lip components twisting upward in unsettling glee, "Unless you'd like to make one with me."

"S-scorch!," Hot Shot gasped, pulling himself into a forward slide and out of the armchair. The yellow recruit was already following by the time the shorter Autobot had stabilized himself on his pedes; turning to find that his companion had gotten closer once again. "W-what are you doing here?! C-Class isn't over y-yet, a-and you still have chores t-to do!"

The athlete sauntered forward with every step that the red youngling took back, until he had unwittingly trapped Hot Shot between two bookshelves. "Done and done," he smirked, chuckling lowly as he slammed a servo on the wall behind the other's helm, "You really need to check your chronometer more often, Hot Shot."

It was probably another trick to distract him, but at the mention of it, Hot Shot opened his internal chronometer... and nearly sank to the floor in dismay. He'd easily lost track of two whole cycles -plenty enough time for Scorch to wrap up any pressing requirements from the professors and hunt his old buddy down. Which he clearly had done. The red Autobot could kick himself! Now there was half a cycle before curfew and not a spark on base who knew that Hot Shot had hidden himself away in Hero Hall, except for the very last 'bot that he'd wanted to find him.

"Ah, Hot Shot... So easily distracted you are."

Something bapped softly at his olfactory sensor, drawing the smaller youngling out of his reverie; spark whirling as he saw it was a heart. Made of foam and felt and adorned with a humble amount of decorative lace and glitter, it appeared to be a constructed Valentine, like the ones he'd glimpsed briefly in Dani's presentation. And the sight of it could only mean one thing...

"You know, this planet has a number of curious novelties and customs," Scorch was saying, eyeing the heart-shaped craft momentarily, his half-shuttered optics sliding toward his pinned companion after, "And I have to admit, I think this is a bit of human tradition worth replicating. So, how 'bout we join in on the spirit of the season, Hot Shot." The valentine card was being pressed into his servos, the yellow recruit leaning forward, his tone hushed. "Say you'll be mine."

"N-no!," Hot Shot snapped, shoving the heart back into the other's grasp. "Scorch, I don't _like you_ like that. I barely can stand you now with you being such a jerk all the time!"

The athlete refused to retake the valentine, smacking it into the multi-changer's chest as he rushed forward; his entire body pinning Hot Shot to the shelves while he dived for the smaller Autobot's mouth. The red youngling quickly snapped his helm to the side, avoiding the kiss. Furious at the action, Scorch growled, denta closing harshly around an audial fin in retaliation. Yelping at the painful bite, Hot Shot was quick to panic when the other's servos snatched at his hips, locking their pelvises together and keeping the shorter recruit trapped.

"L-let me go!," he gasped, trying to slip his servos between their chestplates so he could push his assailant off. He dared not move his legs while Scorch had a hold on his waist. "Let me go right now!"

The yellow youngling moved one servo to grab at Hot Shot's face, forcing it towards himself with a hard squeeze. "Why are you fighting _this_?," he snarled lowly, shaking his companion. "We've known each other since the time we've been protoformed. We've shared _everything_ -classes, friends, activities- and you've never once thought to question it! Didn't I always take care of you; make you happy? You're just going to forget all of that and get rid of me now?!"

"S-stop!," the multi-changer wheezed out between squished cheekplates, starting to thrash under the taller Autobot, "H-hurting...!"

Scorch scoffed, digging his finger tips deeper into Hot Shot's plating. "I spent _all_ of this time on you, ensuring you had all you could ever want, and as soon as that foul 'bot-murderer shows up suddenly I'm not _good enough_ for you?," he said, slamming the red youngling against the shelf when he tried to buck. "If you think I'm just going to stand back and watch while you whore yourself out to that slag-face, you are sorely mistaken. You don't get to just drop me off at the side of the road, Hot Shot. You. Are. _MINE._ "

His optics flared brightly in terror as the athelete shot forward again, unable to twist his face out of the line of fire, while the other recruit was clutching it in his strangling grasp. Then suddenly there was a shift in gravity and Hot Shot found himself crashing to the floor; an astrosecond later, his visual pixels settled and he saw he was blessedly a few feet away from Scorch. His spark swelled twice its size when he also noticed the orange figure standing protectively between the pair of Autobots.

" _How dare you-_ ," Scorch started with an enraged hiss, shaking his dented arm.

"Leave, Scorch," Wedge ordered darkly, his servos curled into massive fists at his side, "Before I _bury_ you."

The yellow recruit's face twisted unkindly at the threat, a cruel smirk rising to his lip components. "And what makes you think you I'd ever listen to a word you say, degenerate. You have no-"

Scorch cut himself off as the library fell apart around them in a cascade of shimmering pixels, leaving the three younglings in the centre of Hero Hall... and a very stern-faced Bumblebee standing at the control terminal. "Scorch, I believe you're well past your curfew," he announced, in the same cutting vocalizer he'd used earlier on Lazerbeak. "Academy regulations state that as a big no-no. I suggest you hurry along to your bunk before I have to add any further infractions in my report to Heatwave."

The athlete hesitated, glancing angrily between Wedge and the older mech.

"I'd double time it if I were you, recruit," Bumblebee urged.

Visibly shaking, Scorch twisted on his heel to leave, a biting "con-fragger" slithering out low enough for the ex-scout not to hear as he marched past the other younglings. Hot Shot flinched at the hissed insult, hugging himself as his fuel tanks flopped about anxiously.

Bumblebee watched the yellow recruit until he was halfway down the hall, before he looked to the remaining students, smiling shortly. "Why don't you two stay here for a few kliks, while I make sure that Scorch gets to his quarters. Wedge, would you be so kind to escort Hot Shot back to his own room afterwards? If anybody sees you, just tell them that I had you guys doing an errand for me; I'll be happy to vouch."

"U-uh, yeah. Sure thing, professor," Wedge replied, stunned. Nodding, the older Autobot left Hero Hall... and once the doors closed, it was just the two recruits alone now.

Neural net buzzing nervously, the orange youngling slowly turned towards his companion, optics taking in the other's hunched frame. "Hey... you all good?," he questioned softly.

Hot Shot's optics flickered up to meet his own just then, barely holding for an astrosecond before the dark blue orbs dropped shyly. "Y-yeah," he mumbled, rubbing his chin with the back of a servo. "S-scorch is... He... I-i don't know. G-guess the f-friendship is truly done n-now."

As much as the mention of the athlete made his energon boil, Wedge kept his anger capped; focusing only on his concern for his friend as he approached the shorter recruit. "I...I'm sorry that this happened," he said, sincerely, reaching out for the other. Hot Shot's intakes stalled as his chin was gently lifted, allowing the triple-changer to assess the light denting on his face.

There was something about Wedge's roughened fingers on his plating that made his engine sputter queerly, yet Hot Shot did not pull away. "I-it's... It's not your f-fault. Scorch is- He was being..." The red youngling trailed off, unable to vocalize his thoughts. He couldn't excuse his ex-friend's behaviour but he also couldn't explain to the triple-changer the delusions Scorch had about the two of them. There was an unfathomable trepidation lingering in his spark at the thought of mentioning those fantasies aloud.

Wedge huffed gently, an odd smile tugging at one corner of his lip components. "It kinda is my fault," he insisted, a finger stroking across a warming cheekplate. Realizing what he was doing, the ex-Decepticon stopped just as quickly as he had started, letting his servo drop completely.

"W-wait? What?," Hot Shot replied, utterly perplexed as his friend stepped away from him. "I-i don't understand..."

The orange youngling only turned away, glancing at his companion tentatively, before slapping his servos together as he cycled a deep intake. "I... I like you, Hot Shot," came the hesitant confession, "And Scorch knows that. Which is why he's been so aggressive toward you lately."

The multi-changer was understandably floored. "I-i'm sorry," he hiccuped, torn up inside, "Y-you... you _what_? I-is this j-just another excuse s-so you don't h-have to be around me anymore?"

Wedge's helm snapped toward the red youngling, optics wide with shock. "W-what- Primus, no!," he vented quickly, the crystal orbs looking so close to shattering. "H-hot Shot, I don't- I _can't_ hate you... I l-left the Academy because I care _so much_ about you that you hating me -hating my past as a Decepticon- it completely destroyed me inside. I didn't want the sparkache that coming back would mean. But then Scorch came to Earth a-and I... I couldn't just leave him to manipulate you so. I was so afraid of what he'd do to you j-just because I had these feelings."

He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. Even cycling intake after intake left a burning trail of fire in his very being. Confusion -and hope and fear and doubt and- settled deeply in the back of his helm, forcing a solid ball to form between his optics as a processor ache began to throb thunderously. Mouth moving silently, Hot Shot tried to stay above the chaos flooding his spark, wanting to run but unable to find the strength to even lift his pedes. How could he trust a single thing Wedge was saying? What would it mean if he was being honest?

Wedge noticed his companion's inner strife and his shoulder tires sagged miserably. "...i-it's okay. We don't have to t-talk about this ever a-again," he managed to mutter. He paused mid-turn, pulling a folded piece of paper out of subspace; staring at it quietly for a moment, before he held it out towards the other recruit. "Y-you might as well have this. No point in me keeping it."

Hot Shot didn't realize he'd taken the paper until the triple-changer was already walking away. Numb fingers unfolded the letter in haste, spark pulsing sharply as his optics zeroed in on the words "I love you" written in faded ink. Immediately he recalled fractured orbs staring at him through the dark, strong servos clutching his bumper as a pitiful plead whispered out into the space between them...

"Wedge! WAIT!"

The orange youngling turned about in the doorway, vents hissing as a figure slammed into his chestplates. His processor struggled to process what was happening for several astroseconds, when suddenly sound and colour came rushing back in, making him aware of the arms wrapped tightly around his torso and the wheezy rattling coming from his collar struts.

"I-i'm sorry. I w-was stupid! P-please, don't g-go," Hot Shot whimpered, his servos clutching tighter to the other's back kibble. "Pl-please, Wedge... _I-i need you_..."

His spark was scalding as it whipped around and around in a frenzy, neural net thrumming as Wedge finally forced his helm down; almost melting when he saw those tearful optics staring back up at him, darkened with trepidation and deep yearning. He didn't fight the desire to crush the shorter recruit tighter against his frame, his intakes cycling hard as he buried his face into Hot Shot's neck cables. "I'm not walking away this time, Hot Shot," he shared softly. "I promise."

The red youngling only pressed himself closer at the vow, a smile spreading across his wet cheekplates joyfully at the words. In his chestplates, his spark swelled, burning star bright with affection.

**C.M.D: Happy Valentine's Day everyone!**   
**Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?**


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